Material Girl: A Gossip Girl Novel
by Rachel Knight
Summary: I wrote the first two chapters early on in the series, so excuse any innacuracies. And yes, this fic was on here before 'Gossip Girl' was acknologed on
1. Disclaimer

hey people!   
  
guess what? i don't own the gossip girl series or any of the characters in these fics! i also don't claim to own them, and i don't make any money off of them (shocker, huh?).  


  
you know you love me,  
  
paris


	2. Quote

_Whoever gossips to you will gossip about you._

-Spanish Proverb


	3. Part One

**hey people!**

College interviews are over, the Christmas gifts are  
broken in and our New Year's Eve hangovers are almost  
cured. So what's a girl to do? Well, if you're S, not  
much of anything. What is up with that girl lately?  
She's hardly left her flat at all since New Year's.  
J's new mall goth look personifies the mood around  
here now that our favorite party girl has gone AWOL. 

**sights**

Not much of anything. Hopefully the White Stripes concert  
tonight will liven up our scandal-free environment.

You know you love me,

Gossip Girl

P.S. Don't fret- a gossip hiatus this extreme can only  
mean that something truly scandalous is about to happen!

Second period had barely begun, but Serena was already bored. Twirling her pencil and leaning on her desk in a way that was so Britney, circa her "... Baby One More Time" video, the blonde schoolgirl tried to catch a few words of her history teacher's lecture before letting her thoughts slip away.

New Year's Eve was just a few nights before, and Serena was mildly surprised at how eventful the year had been. She had been expelled from private school, ostracized by her best friends, and accepted back into their group. Of course, the scandals didn't stop there. She had made news as a celebrity's alleged fiancé. She had gone through a slew of boyfriends that was impressive, even for her. She had even purposely sabotaged her one chance of getting into an Ivy League college.

Serena flipped through a Harper's Bazaar underneath her desk and glanced a Chanel Chance ad, smiling because it used the picture that she had seen so many times before.  
She had caused quite a scandal when she modeled for that picture. There was so much gossip about the close-ups and what they might be of that she never told a soul that the photographs were of nothing naughtier than the center of her pursed lips. It would have ruined all her fun.  
She had enjoyed watching the scandal unfold quite a bit.  
Serena loved it when people gossiped about her, the more outrageous the comments the better. It wasn't that she was a fame whore- though she had to admit that she still got a bit excited whenever she saw her face in Vogue or Us- she just enjoyed the drama of gossip, the process of spreading rumors, the outrageous and often funny way that the truth turned into bizarre lies. Hell, she had learned so much about the human psyche by studying the rumor mill that she could be a psychiatrist if she could pay more attention during science class.

It was her fascination with gossip that had drawn her to and now she was addicted. She got a thrill every time she saw that italicized "S", which was, she thought to herself, just about every day that the mysterious web mistress updated.

She felt a sharp, quick pain in her side and looked down to see that her best friend, Blair, had jabbed a folded-up note at her. An expert in the art of in-school gossip, Serena took the folded up paper and prepared to read a lengthy description of whatever it was that was bothering the girl today.  
_"Are you going to the concert tonight? Nate was thinking about renting a limo for all of us."_

Seeing that the note was nothing more than an invite, Serena felt a twinge of guilt for thinking badly of her friend. It certainly wasn't the first time that she had grown annoyed at Blair lately. She had lived away from New York for so long that it seemed like she had changed so much while her circle of friends had stayed exactly the same.

You're no better than them, she thought to herself. You know that. But lately she was just feeling so intensely bored with the world. Something was missing in her life, but she couldn't understand what it was.

(Well, it isn't beauty, fashion sense, wealth or a  
gorgeous boyfriend.)

Daniel inhaled deeply on his cigarettel, leaning on the school wall and trying to finish at least one stick of nicotine before his next period. He peered down at his gold Rolex- a Christmas gift from Jenny- and saw that he had less than a minute until class. Well, there was only one thing he could do to solve that problem. He set off to the park, glad for an excuse to skip Math.  
_(It's great to see that some kids still have their priorities straight.)_

Dan sat down on a park bench and breathed in the crisp, cold air. He hated being trapped inside his high school all day with the same snobby drones, and he skipped as often as he could afford. He knew that wasn't the only reason he had skipped today, though. He had math class with Aaron, the boyfriend of his ex, Serena.

Dan, always an observer, thought of Aaron as just another rich stoner. He was just like every other snob at his school, and a bit of a wigger to boot. He was the last guy that Daniel would have expected Serena to go for. 

But then again, he never really knew her at all. He had loved Serena wildly and blindly since the first time he had laid eyes on her. He had fallen in love with a fantasy and had paid the price for it when she broke up with him for being too serious about their relationship. He felt the crush of reality every time he saw Aaron. 

When emotions boiled in him like this he wrote his best poetry. But when he pulled out his pen and notebook, the words didn't come.

Everyone thought that Blair Waldorf had the perfect life. Blair treasured this reputation and never gave anyone a reason to think it was untrue. Her bulimia, her obsession with getting into Yale, the love-hate affair she had with being in the spotlight constantly... she didn't even want to think about these things, let alone make somebody else aware of them. And with best friends like Katie and Isabel, she wasn't even tempted to.

She had always felt a slight annoyance towards those two. They seemed more like props than actual friends- like they were accessories that she took to parties in order to maintain her reputation of being a budding socialite. Blair knew that that was how the two girls thought of her as well. The superficiality sickened her, but she knew that that was how a New York debutante was supposed to think of her friends.

"Associate with the best families, make as many friends as you can, and never get too close to anyone. Follow these three rules, Blair, and you'll be a successful socialite one day." That was the advice that Blair's mother had given to her before her first party with her parents- her "coming out".  
Blair remembered that moment perfectly. Her mom had been putting on lipstick, making eye contact with Blair in the bathroom mirror. Blair had felt grown-up and elegant in her first Gucci dress, a chocolate colored silk number with a knee-length skirt and long sleeves. She rarely got the chance to talk to her busy mother, let alone receive advice from her, so from that day forward Blair had treasured her words and followed them.

But now that Serena, her best and oldest friend, was back in New York, Blair wanted to tell her everything that was going on in her life, even the bad things. Still, she needed to restrain herself. Their friendship was based on fun and parties, not shoulders to cry on. Even if Blair wasn't obsessed with maintaining her reputation as someone who led a charmed life, Serena wasn't the kind of girl you went to when you were feeling down. She was a party girl, someone to have fun with. It wasn't that she wouldn't listen to Blair... it was just that she wouldn't understand. How could she? She didn't seem to have a care in the world.


	4. Part Two

_(appropriately, all lyrics in this chapter are by Jack White)_

Serena loved to wake up from her pre-party naps. Her dreams were always gorgeous. She savored waking up with the twilight's shadows draping down on her from the skylight over her bed. "A sheer gauze sari for a jeweled Hindu princess painting." What guy had told her that? She couldn't remember. Lately all of her past loves had kind of blurred together, had been forgotten. Only one guy stood out from the rest... Serena clenched her eyes shut to keep the thought from surfacing. She wouldn't waste the night thinking about Dan again. She covered her face in her hair and fell back into her nap.

(when i hear my name i want to disappear  
when i hear my name i want to disappear   
oh oh oh oh  
when i see my face i want to disappear  
when i see my face i want to disappear  
oh oh oh oh)

Later she awoke to the smell of her orange-and-jasmine bath being drawn. She stretched out her cat-like limbs. Naked on top of her her Egyptian cotton sheets, and still groggy, she slid on a robe and made her way down the hallway towards the bathroom, to get ready for whatever she was doing that night.

(Lots of girls walk around in tears   
but that's not for you  
you've been looking all around for years  
for someone to tell your troubles to)

"Add a couple shots of caffeine to the usual mix, please", S said dreamily as her family's maid finished up drawing the oils in her bath.

(Don't you think that I'm bound to react now?  
My fingers definitely turning to black now  
Maybe I'll put my love on ice  
And teach myself, maybe that'll be nice)

When she was alone by the water, Serena grabbed the lemon slice from off the top of her water glass by the tub and bit it, sudden and hard, peel and all. She felt the pulpy, juicy grinds slide over her tongue and down her throat. Lemon was so good for cleansing. She followed the fruit with an ice cube and submerged herself in the scalding water.

For once she was watching, hearing, feeling, crying, not trying so hard to look good like she always had before, caught in this whole new net of sex. Poet's lips, marking kisses down her throat (harder, softer, gentle lips coating primal-love bite marks), she could hear the only boy who ever said "I love you" saying it over and over again, his voice swelling with passion as she felt the words beat their rhythm harder and faster and the virgin-boy she was supposedly  
deflowering seemed to love the unexpected irony, as she became his, not the other way around. Grasping his chest to hers, body sobbing with spastic moans, could never stand to let go when she wanted to be as close as possible. His words worshipping every inch of her, every inch that was now his to be in rapture at the sight of, to tease until her boiling point, and then collapsed into each other, they didn't ever want to just stop, but stay forever, just hearing the sounds of their voices escaping their bodies together...

Serena shot up from under the water, gasping for breath and still quaking from the fantasies she had finally let loose in her mind. Well, now she knew why she was still thinking about Daniel! Of course, it was because they had never had sex. She had always had sex with her boyfriends, since her first time. And she had always been the seducer, the dominant one. Deflowering a guy like Dan (i.e., a virgin) would have definite appeal to a girl like S. And it would be easy! Just show up to the concert that was going on that night- who was playing again? The White Stripes? Dan was sure to show, everyone was going- she could seek him out, swallow her pride, and take him back for one single night, to get some closure. Then she could stop thinking about him...

Mystery and Daniel were in the back room of their new favorite punk venue ("It's the next CBGB!", Rusty had declared, before getting them on the list for an exclusive White Stripes pre-party warm-up show), not giving a fuck about the music but loving the base of the drums and the swells of the guitar rifts, pacing their kisses- Mystery's fast and frantic puckers, Dan's slowly dominating licks and bites- to the rhythm. Dan was used to doing this type of thing with Mystery, but something surrounded the moment that just made the whole thing seem... odd. Uncomfortable. Like a poem he might have written during his sissification-meets-sex-meets-apathy phase. It was so surreal and vaguely nightmarish, and maybe that was why he said what he did next. Maybe he just got swept up in the passion of the living poem, saying what a character would say in his situation. "I love you", he said to Mystery mid-kiss, and he was  
immediately shocked by his stupidity.

(She'll send me flowers  
With her tears bored inside  
And you know what I'd do  
I would run and hide)

He and Mystery weren't touching anymore. She was looking up at him, doe-eyed and dew-faced as always, her always vacant eyes just staring up at him. And  
suddenly, he was disgusted by her. Her foolish sheer baby doll dress, her Alice in Wonderland braids, her embarrassingly personal statements... she was lying on a hospital table, naked as ever, dressed like a little girl, talking like someone about to die. She was like meat thrown on a counter about to be butchered... Nothing was private, nothing was sacred. She gave everything she had to everyone she came across.

Suddenly he couldn't stand the sight of her, she was just so pathetic. His words of affection had made her cry, like she couldn't stand giving that one last thing up, the fact that no one knew her enough to love her. Her childish misunderstanding of love was the only thing she did not show to every stranger, and now it was taken from her. Dan held her like she was a little girl, her hair covering her face, muffling here baby-like sobs, his arms wrapped around her shoulders as she covered her face in his chest. "I love you. I love you, please stop." How dare the cultural big shots see that she was like this and encourage her, make mental illness the most scintillating detail of her personae? "You are so great, Mystery, I swear I love you. But, I just can't be with you."

(To the valley below  
Well its easter morning now  
and there's no one around  
so i unroll the cement  
and walk into the town  
there was no one with me   
and i was all alone  
and i fought piranhas  
and i fought the cold  
Hey little apple blossom  
what seems to be the problem  
all the ones you tell your troubles to  
they don't really care for you)

He didn't know who he was walking to after he dropped off Mystery. The person that he had really been thinking of when he told the poor girl that he loved her. He assumed it was Vanessa. Who else would it be?

(Your breath is sweet  
Your eyes are like two jewels in the sky.  
Your back is straight, your hair is smooth  
On the pillow where you lie.  
But I don't sense affection  
No gratitude or love  
Your loyalty is not to me  
But to the stars above.  
One more cup of coffee for the road  
One more cup of coffee fore I go  
To the valley below.   
You've never learned to read or write  
There's no books upon your shelf.  
And your pleasure knows no limits  
Your voice is like a meadowlark  
But your heart is like an ocean  
Mysterious and dark  
One more cup of coffee for the road,  
One more cup of coffee fore I go)

Vanessa had finished developing the photos from Dan's poetry reading. She had felt her heart wrenching itself dry of blood as she watched him with Craze, but she had stayed, just to get the perfect shots. Every picture came out wrong, a complete waste of film. She wanted to paper cut scarlings unto her heart with the glossy paper, but she threw the photographs in the incinerator instead.

(What if someone walked up to me  
And like an apple cut right through me)

Serena was the only one not wearing the right colors to the concert- fuck the red, black and white theme of the band. Her lime green fishnets with a thick black wool knee-length skirt and see-through white lace top stood out like she had planned it that way. Whatever. She was too proud of her very own tag, 'Lucky Sevens by Serena', hand sewn into the high collar. She felt so illustrious now that she had her own fashion line.

Blair was walking around before the show, trying not to feel so lonely. Katie was sitting on a discarded speaker, wearing a long black skirt and white lace shirt with a high collar, and sleeves that led up to holes in her middle finger and thumb. She had cut her loose curls-and-braids hair to the shoulders when Blair had gone short. K looked beautiful with the lights on her like that, sort of exposed. A small scar on her lower back showed where her shirt hiked up (she was slouching like she always did when her friends weren't looking). Her hair looked so thin and feathery-soft, hanging down over her face when she stared at the floor. Her face was clean of make-up except for her pale lipshine.

"Hi", Blair said, sitting down next to her.

"Hello, Blair", Kate said, her slight British accent ringing in her strained yell over the music. Her voice was so pretty, how could Blair have not noticed before?

(yeah you're pretty good looking for a girl  
your eyes are wide open   
and your thoughts have been stolen by the boys  
who took you out and bought you everything you want now  
yeah you're pretty good looking…)


End file.
